


Heart To Heart

by EnemyMine



Series: Wants, needs and realities [14]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode: s01e20 Missing, Episode: s05e03 Ex-File, Episode: s06e04 Heartland, Episode: s07e08 Power Down, M/M, POV Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 03:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11153229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnemyMine/pseuds/EnemyMine
Summary: Gibbs has introspective thoughts.





	Heart To Heart

The power had finally come up again earlier today. Just in time after they had finished the latest convoluted case. The irony of it all having to to do with computer espionage for the benefit of the highest bidder, when the whole investigation had to be done by non-electronic means, was not lost on him. Sadly non of his team had enjoyed it quite as much as Gibbs, especially not his current SFA Cassie Yates.

He couldn't help but imagining what his old team would have made of the case. Not that he, only a few months short of three years after losing the last of his old team, truly still missed them like that. Mostly. Not that anyone was privy to that information. That was still very much between the former Marine and his basement. But down there he had started to openly admit to these thoughts.

The space once occupied by the “Kelly” was now used up by a large table at which he crafted small wooden toys for the local children's hospital. He found the activity to be to certain degree more soothing than working on all these boats had ever been. But then most of the boats had ended up as expensive fire wood, while the “Kelly” had actually managed some mileage across sea before the vendetta of a lonely, bitter woman had seen her logged into the NCIS evidence garage.  
Since technically Gibbs was still owner of her, although she had been a gift to his goddaughter, it would have been for him to claim her after the case had been closed, but he had not yet come around to that and since Mike Franks was not caring either way at the moment, he was not in a hurry. It was not as if he could stash her back into the basement!

Oh, Abby was delighted to have her in her hands. Not so much of how she came to be there, but because the scientist hoped to finally figure out his trick of getting her out in the first place. But of course the woman never came around to do that. Procedure was to take the boat apart in search for bullet holes and respective bullets as well as ascertain trajectory if possible, not to spent government dollars on pet peeves. As much as she truly did not like that, Abby had to bent to the rules.  
If Gibbs was a betting man, he would put down some hard earned money that she would try for greener pastures within the next couple of months. He was not sure how to feel about that. Three years ago he would have cussed up a storm and would have done everything in his power to bully her into staying. Not that the woman even would have entertained the idea of leaving the Navy Yard and her “Labby” behind. But times had been different then.

He exchanged a plane against some sanding paper for his newest creation. This one was to become a hobby horse and he was currently smoothing out its head.  
Next to him stood a still steaming mug of rotgut. The other kind that rotted his gut. Nothing beat a marine's coffee. That had been the only thing he had missed during the power outage. Of course percolators all over had stopped working and he had to make do with the concoction he managed to brew using the old method of kettle and coffee filter in the rare spare time during the case.

The depravity of people should really not surprise him any more. Not after seeing the worst of the worst in actual war and not after 18 years of law enforcement. More if he counted his brief stint as an MP, which he really didn't.  
But kidnapping and killing a young woman just to use her eyes as a convenient key to the facility! Gibbs shook his head at that. Well, as much as he might not understand all that modern technology – and he really did not need to as long as it worked or someone else was there to understand it for him – he understood perfectly well, how brave the NSA agent had fought to prevent it. And that when she knew she could not stop the access any longer, she made sure her body would lead the investigation onto the right track.  
Yes, he truly believed it when he told her husband, that she had died a hero! 

It had been a soldier's choice and that was a mindset he very much still shared. Even when those of his kind got rarer these days and were far less revered as the once were.  
But the likes of him, Mike Franks and to a degree even Ducky, they were dinosaurs of this trade. Computer, technology was all the rage and physical contact seemed to be avoided at all costs. Or so it seemed.  
But then there was no success to be had in this profession if you only were capable of following up an investigation one way or the other. Even the former Marine had realized that and tried to adapt as much as possible. Of course, when the old team had still been around, he did not need to let on to that fact.

Ah, there it was again. The old team. For a moment Gibbs felt the need for a nice jar of bourbon. Instead he raised his mug and allowed the hot beverage to warm his insides.  
It was slow going, but he had decided to ease up a little on his favorite therapist. Some nights under a boat could do that to you, especially when your back told you vehemently about the stupidity of your ways the next day. Bourbon tended to let Gibbs forget at least twenty of his years, only to add them the next morning. Same reason he had started to slowly use the bed in the master bedroom again. Though he still did not refer to it as “his bed” and more often than not ended up on the couch anyway.

After years – decades really – of denial, Gibbs had finally started to admit to himself that he was growing older. Not old yet, but getting there. The knee that had always bothered him getting more persistent, the other joints joining in, the last of the darker color vanishing from his hair, the way nights in the office or on surveillance made him feel nowadays.  
He had crossed 50 and whatever he had thought to be doing when he had entered the Marine Corps in 1976, he had not thought to feel so world-wary. Honestly he probably had only thought about the fasted way out of Stillwater and that naturally had been the military. It had been less a career choice and more an escape. Shannon had been a bonus.

Thinking about his late wife still hurt, but he had finally learned to deal with, instead of simply burying it. Another reason to abstain from the booze as much as possible. 

Shannon had been a godsend that day and for the following years she had been a steadfast guiding light. A true marine's wife. She held the fort and left a candle in the window. She was friend, lover and confidant, and last but not least an incredible mother to their little girl. She had been everything he could have ever dream of and so much more. 

A small tear stole its way across his cheek. Yes, it still hurt and it always would. Something he had not been able to understand for way to long. Instead he had stopped living.  
Gibbs might not have eaten his own gun back at that beach, but once he had been able to dish out his revenge he simply had stopped progressing forwards. He left the Corps because of the investigation into his person and because it reminded him too much of the life he had with his girls. So he went to work for the agent who investigated Shannon's death and subsequently returned to the house which now was devoid of all life. Only too fitting really that in the coming decade he would go and marry three look-a-likes and date a couple of others. All left him in the end, because he could not be their man.

Same with Hollis two years ago really.

At that he couldn't help to envision the last time he had seen the Army CID Lt. Colonel. Right here in this very basement, right after he had come back down from seeing Stephanie out.  
Another of those ironies. His ex-wife was finally able to make peace with their broken past and ready to literally move on, while Hollis could just not let the past lie. Could not leave his girls alone, demanding to know. Not realizing that Gibbs would have told her eventually. In his own time.

Shannon and Kelly were not some shameful secrets, but a part of him. He did not run around advertising the fact that he was once widowed and an orphaned parent, but then most would not expect that after all this time.  
Diane had known pretty much from the moment they met each other. But then it had not been that long ago, that they had been buried. And once Diane left him, he was no longer once widowed, but also once divorced and it was only to natural to refer to his latest marriage, if the topic ever came up.  
Mike knew not to talk about the girls, knew how it still smarted. But then he was not one for talking emotions anyway. Thus their team-mates never got a clue, that his then bride was actually to be wife number three and subsequent ex-wife number two. He was Agent Afloat for a while and coming home he found Rebecca with another man. A quick divorce followed and Gibbs was headed east for prolonged undercover operations in Europe.  
He never came around to tell Jenny. First it was work and when it became personal they were deep undercover in Paris. Afterwards it was none of her business anymore. While he moved on to Stephanie and Moscow.

Knowing what the former Marine now was able to admit to himself, he probably would have continued with that pattern. He was continuing that pattern after all. One should never forget “Red”, short for “the mysterious redhead with the convertible” as Tony had started to call her in front of the younger agents. She had fit right into the mold and was right on time, barely a year and half after his latest divorce. If it hadn't been for Ari Haswari and his infiltration of the Navy Yard….

The former Gunny went and got himself some fresh coffee from the percolator in the kitchen. Instead of returning right back under the surface of the earth, he stood and sipped his beverage leaning against the fridge. Maybe it was time for him to stop running from the truths presented up here.  
There had been a time, when he had been forcefully reminded of the fact, that he could not wither away downstairs, pickling his liver in bourbon and eating sawdust for the rest of his life. Only to come out to hunt the bastard that had dared to hurt one of his own.

Tony had called him Captain Ahab on more than on occasion. Secure in the knowledge that only he would be able to get away with it. That he basically had been all that was left.  
His hand-picked agent with the wandering shoes had proven himself to be the only one to stand up to Gibbs' temper and to even manage it without the older man noticing. He remained when “Red” had given up on him.  
When he turned the nights into days for a possibility to get to the bastard, not going home for days at a time, it had been Tony who first stayed beside him and then started to goad him back to his house with the promise of some pizza delivery, beer, even some John Wayne flick. 

As always the SFA had been taking care of his team, but it was more than that and they both had known it. They were friends, no matter if others knew or believed it. Fornell sure for the longest time never did. Too different was the facade Tony presented at the Navy Yard from the steadfast, loyal friend he was after hours. But then Fornell had just a passing understanding of undercover work. He was good enough as long as they let him wear a suit, push papers and maybe grow a beard. The first two he did anyway at the FBI, so no new skills required and the third was able to cover facial impressions that should not be there.

Tony was in a league of his own making. Maybe only second to Callen overall and that man was feared for his talents. The only reason no one feared Tony was because the CIA had never utilized him like they had his old friend, and his agent had been perfectly happy playing loyal St. Bernard pretending to be a Labrador puppy to Gibbs' terrier at the Navy Yard. Not that the OSP had not tried to poach him regularly.  
Some had accused his superior of holding the young man back over the years. But they did not know Tony as well as he – at least at the time – did. There was practically no one capable of making the younger man do something he didn't want to. Digging in his heels like a stubborn mule at every indication. The same could also be said for the opposite, as many people could attest to. No one was so fast to vanish as his erstwhile agent if he felt it necessary. Like he had done to Gibbs, when he felt no longer wanted.

Starring straight ahead with unseeing eyes across the dining room and the den through the huge windows out front into the darkness of the street beyond, Gibbs truly only saw the past and the failures he had committed.  
He still remembered when notorious job hopper Anthony DiNozzo Jr reached his two year mark as his second and was still there the next morning. Despite how nonchalant he might have appeared at the time, Gibbs had been elated, carefully hidden from prying eyes. It's been a tough time with them adjusting to Kate on the team, which totally screwed with their dynamic. 

The old team, McGee, Kate, and even Ziva, had never truly grasped the way the partners had interacted when they were not around. Yes, Tony yapped near constantly at times and it was grating, but Gibbs always had known that was just his way of working through his thoughts.  
Where the Special Agent in Charge simply silently mused over the facts until the puzzle pieces fell into place, his Second in Command had to draw comparisons with situations he had encountered, movies he had seen, heck even at time lyrics to his favorite songs and blabbed about it until a connection to their case was achieved that most often broke it wide open. Different tactics to achieve the same objective, admittedly with a slight advantage for the younger man. 

There had been no jealousy between them for the results were the only thing that mattered. Tony thought outside of the box and produced more than the rather rigid older man. Teaching that to the rather rigid Kate had been a bitch and only worked because the undercover specialist permanently adapted to fit her needs.  
As big as her balls had been, Gibbs would not have stood for her for more than maybe half a year with her borderline insubordination at times. His Second had not wanted to give up and even had started to pester him to add more to the mix. Told him that McGee would be a nice fit and be a non-threatening partner to the ultra-feminist Kate, if he managed to grow a small backbone.  
Everything had shaped up nicely for a while. Yes, they bickered, pranked and snooped like little kids sometimes, but all three of them stood together when it counted. And then Kate got killed….

Ziva was dead now too. Gibbs still was not sure how to feel about that. Yes, she had been a plant and practically everything had been an act, but she had still been one of his own for a year and a half.  
It would be easier to grieve for her, if she would have made the decision to leave Mossad. If there was tangible proof that at least something – anything – had been real. That he had not been played so utterly! That he had not lost Tony for nothing!

Only the sound of the impact made him aware that his coffee mug no longer was in his hands. The trail of liquid indicated that it had met the wall right next to his ironing board. Meaning that he probably had do re-do laundry, for a basket had been awaiting further treatment right there under the stain.  
Sighing he did what years of Marine Corps training had ingrained into him. A towel took care of the stain and within minutes he had shaken out all shards from the cloth and a new machine running. But a Marine was never to be seen without a white t-shirt beneath his over-shirt and work had prevented him from doing his chores for a while.

A new mug was acquired and filled and with another wary sigh Gibbs sat himself at his spartan dinner table.  
His house was practically empty except for the bare necessities. All furniture it currently held was at least 25 years old. No progression. All life, everything newer had to be brought in by those who dared to do so. They all took it all back when they left. And they all left.

Tony… Tony had intuitively understood never to even leave anything behind. He rarely stayed the night, mostly just coming over after a long case for some cowboy steak and beer to debrief or on the few cases when Gibbs had decided not to adhere to his own rules and be unreachable. The notable exceptions had been when Wendy had left him and he had to find a new place to live. And when his boiler had blown. But then he didn't even dare to ask, only coming over after his boss had expressively stated that his door was always unlocked.  
Both men had not wanted to remember the first time. The alcohol both had consumed during that time had not been healthy for any of them. Words had been exchanged that had cut deep and things had been awkward for a while. But then they had barely known each other back then, only a couple of months after that dirty back-alley in Baltimore and a crooked partner. They only became friends instead of mere acquaintances when Tony had stayed at NCIS beyond his usual two year hitch, when Gibbs had been sure that it was safe to invest more into his work partner. 

And it had been on the older man, there was no mistake about it. Tony had opened the door pretty much in the time after he had sobered up from the wedding that was not to be. A little cautious at first, but then full blown. Gibbs had however still been unable to see beyond his track-record.  
Then the anniversary passed and the young man was still there. Smiling, teasing, yapping, nothing indicating that there ever had been doubt in the agent to ask for a transfer. That night Gibbs had put an especially nice steak on the fire in quiet celebration and suddenly friendship came easy.

Everything came easy. Once Tony had actually stepped foot in his house after the case with the Jane Doe, who in the end turned out a woman scorned hell-bent on revenge and bombed herself, her lover and pretty much everyone not fast enough out of the building.  
The week it took for his maintenance guy getting his boiler back to work, could have been extremely strenuous for them. Both appreciating their privacy a lot more than anyone would expect, especially in the younger man's case. But they had fallen into an easy rhythm, both used to their chores and a certain degree of order.  
It really was not a chore to watch a movie while eating dinner, although Gibbs would have loved to know what Kate would have said if she would have ever witnessed such. Not only that Gibbs watched too, but that Tony never even uttered a word all throughout. No running commentary, no explanations on the side or anecdotes about an actor or a movie-set. Just two guys eating their meal while watching a film.

Between the apartment emergency and the feeling of wrong-footedness after Ducky, Jackson and Kate had been held hostage in the morgue and the looming threat of Ari, they had grown a strong bond for the other. Even when it took Gibbs a while to see it for it was and nearly loosing Tony in some sewer.  
Oh, he had been so pissed at him the whole case, that with the unresolved situation around their intruder and then the previous case where Tony spontaneously went undercover as a potential love interest with of all people Pacci's murderer! Could have gotten himself killed!  
Tony had once called it his “Papa Bear”-mode and it had been in full swing, even when Gibbs had not wanted to admit to it. Leading to some very hurtful words during that case. And then Tony got himself kidnapped and all Gibbs could think about, that basically the last thing he had said to him was to fire him, if he checked in late. Still didn't stop him from behaving like an ass, when they just got him back.  
Gibbs had thought he was going for levity, when in fact he was hurting his friend. A fact he realized, when the look on Tony's face after the words to McGee about it been to early to give him his desk or something like that, did not vanish after Ducky had checked him over and the reports had been written.

That evening Gibbs had done something he usually didn't do. He apologized. Went by the younger man's apartment with a peace offering of Chow Mien and said sorry. Because you could apologize amongst friends. For once he didn't even stop at that one word, but opened the pressure valve and let it all out.  
Tony forgave him. But he made it very clear, that teasing at the workplace was all fine and dandy and for the benefit of the young ones, but he had a hard limit and he wouldn't tolerate a breach ever again. 

A limit the whole team had been pushing and pushing the year after Kate's death, especially with the pressure Ziva put on him and used everyone's weaknesses against him. Their strongest link, her biggest threat. But again Gibbs had committed the breach, even when he hadn't known it at the time. Scrambled brain and all.  
And just as Tony had promised that night, he left and didn't look back. 

Wasn't it ironic that it had been just a couple of days past their two year anniversary, when the explosion made Gibbs forget? They had managed to hold it together and to never let on to the fact for two whole years, never missing a beat at work, never slipping up… only to ultimately been brought down by years of repressed feelings of an emotional constipated Marine.

No, he no longer blamed the bomb. That was a natural hazard, like a bullet hitting its target. Came with the territory. He blamed himself, now that he finally had allowed himself to let go of his anger.  
Tony had held on as long as he could, giving him the chance to grieve again in peace and away from him, but instead he had repressed it all over again and putting the pressure right back on the younger man's shoulders.  
True, it had taken a while for him working on Mike's leaking roof, before the jumbled memories of a naked body that was decidedly not female intermingled with those of his girls and various look-a-likes made any real sense to him. Not that he was surprised by the acts themselves, after all he might have officially only ever been with women, but they didn't ask and he didn't tell. 

There was a reason after all why Chuck and Ed had it out for him like they did back in Stillwater. The times being what they were, the town being what it had been and “upstanding” boys like those two could do nothing else, than teaching delinquents like him a lesson. Sure it all started when his mother died, but that had been the time when he started doing stuff he otherwise probably would have never done. LJ hadn't been around anymore and Jack had always been unable to keep him in line. They were to different.  
Well, at least Chuck had tasted some of his own medicine last year. Not the way he would have wished on the man, after all the whole family would never be the same again and his daughter and grandson had done nothing to deserve it.

Jack would have loved to meet Tony though. It would have been the downfall of Gibbs, but those two would have been two peas in a pod! Best not to imagine what kind of blabber he would have been made to withstand if Tony would have been there for the excursion to Stillwater.

Apart from the obvious personal connection in that case, Tony would surely have appreciated some of the cases that the MCRT had to handle in the last years. Some had been pretty much out there. Then of course there had been the latest one.  
His thoughts were going full circle at that. Hadn't he started asking himself what the old team would have made from the power outage?

Oh, he nearly could hear McGee's silent desperation while trying to hack away on the now useless keyboard. He sure would have been completely out of his depth without electronics. But then he would have been right on topic with the bank statements, so maybe after a bit persuasion to dive into the boxes and boxes of paper files, everything would have turned okay for the young man.  
Ziva would have probably threatened all surrounding electronics with her knives, before adapting. It had been what she had been trained to do and with the objective clear, she would have made do.  
Tony however would have been a sight to see. Probably cursing up a storm, since the man was nothing but used to certain luxuries. But then both he and Gibbs were aware that they were in fact just that and that he very much not only knew to work a case without most electronics, but actually was very capable doing so. There had been no wide-spread internet and country-wide communication when he had learned the craft as a young police officer in Peoria. It slowly became a thing during his time in Philadelphia and only started to get steam shortly before Gibbs poached a very willing Homicide detective from Baltimore.

So, yeah, he would have muttered and protested. Probably mostly about actually having to do all the required leg work like some beat cop straight out of the academy. Second, knowing the man, probably would be the fact that his boiler would not have provided any warm water and oh boy, did Tony love to take his hot showers! Not surprising, considering that as long as Gibbs had known him, he had the training regimen of the college athlete he once had been, so his muscles always were under some kind of stress and needed the additional relaxation. Together with days without any form of air-conditioning and lots of leg work… Yeah, Gibbs practically could smell the cologne now.  
Otherwise Tony would have been fine. He knew how to do most things the hard way, only preferred to do them the smart way – whatever the secret to that was. Okay, the team leader could admit that putting out the BOLO might have been a challenge for everyone who had grown up around readily available copying machines. Doing so by hand was a skill he himself had last needed while still in the Corps!

Steel blue eyes still starred into the nothingness of the night outside and his heart weighted heavy.  
None of them had been there and neither Ducky not Abby had been witness to the happening in the bullpen.  
Abby clocked in, had a major breakdown and had managed to finagle something with lemons so she was at least able to do basic finger and tire print comparisons. His gut told him that was just the thing that managed to finally tip the woman over the edge and into leaving into the private sector. Now that he had been forced by procedure to keep his distance during working hours, he felt emotionally a bit detached from her and was able to admit that it might be for the best. Still felt weird after so many years in which she had come close to be a surrogate daughter.  
Ducky was kept busy, for at least the morgue had a back-up generator. But since the schedule for MEs and their assistants had been enforced, they didn't happen to necessarily work the same cases any longer. They still met up occasionally, but with Mrs. Mallard's ailing mental status and declining health and their different schedules it had become quite a task to find time.  
McGee had spent a couple of days on payed leave, since the whole Cyber Unit was practically useless without power. Only one of them had manned a station in MTAC for acute on the spot computer wizardry – or whatever it was supposed to be.

A soft smile played on his lips. Tony had made it to Rota. Finally someone had let it slip during a conference in MTAC. Leader of an apparently very successful team. The location would have been only more right up his alley, if it had been Cuba or Porto Rico instead of Spain.  
Gibbs was proud of him, more than he probably would ever be able to tell the man. Anthony DiNozzo Jr had turned out to be the best damn agent, he had ever met. And a fine man. Sadly he had driven him away.


End file.
